"No girl likes black," Melody Thorne began, "I not only dislike black but also particularly hate it. I only pretended to like it because you liked it, trying to win you over so you'd like me back."
Jared Quinn's arm tightened, his cold, hard jawline forming a determined arc, "So, you never actually liked black?"
"I don't like it!"
"What about other things?"
"Do you think any girl likes darts? Likes boxing? Likes fencing?" Melody, having drunk a bit too much, was never good with alcohol, so she let it all spill out.
She really disliked those things, extremely disliked them.
"What about the piano?" Jared walked over to the piano, setting her down on the keys in a somewhat ungraceful manner.
Melody's foot rested on his leg as her hand brushed over the black piano. This time she finally nodded; she did like the piano.
Seeing her nod, a slight curve appeared on Jared's stern and deep-set features, even if out of all the things he chose, she only liked one.
